


Actually, I Enjoyed It...

by WordsAreMusicForTheEyes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Body Image, F/M, Getting caught..., Happy Ending, Love, Masturbation in Bathroom, Mild Angst, Quiet Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5278265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAreMusicForTheEyes/pseuds/WordsAreMusicForTheEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You get caught having some 'alone time' in the bathroom by the handsome, green-eyed subject of your fantasy...</p><p>Feeling embarrassed, you avoid any interaction with Dean. However, that very same night he decides to let you know, in his own inimitable way, that he enjoyed what he saw...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo folks! This was initially intended to be a one-shot, but I started getting a little tired and decided to split it into two chapters :D
> 
> It also lets me know if you groovy souls actually LIKE this fic enough for me to pursue...so your feedback is greatly welcomed and appreciated ^.^ On a side-note, I will be getting back to my other fics at some point. I just had this idea pop into my mind, and REALLY wanted to write it down :D 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! <3

Perched on the edge of the bathtub, you quickly dabbled your fingers amidst the stream of comfortably hot water, rushing from the singular tap. While waiting for the tub to fill, so you could have a relaxing soak, you stripped off; neatly folding and stacking your clothes atop one of the dry bathroom units.

Having the motel room to yourself for an evening was indeed a rare luxury; an opportunity for some peace and quiet. Sam and Dean had ventured off to the nearest bar for a couple of drinks and, naturally, a chance to get some 'action'. You weren't altogether bothered, you'd had your share of one night stands to release pent-up tension. No strings attached sex was a way of numbing the constant vigilance that had become entrenched in you, an inevitable trait that came as part of being a hunter.

Though perhaps you weren't being entirely honest with yourself? Knowing Dean was, most likely, working those charms of his on another woman, offering her his tender brand of intimacy for the night...that notion left a bitter taste. Time and time again, you had to endure this bitterness, swallow it down like a rancid medicine that sought only to darken the thoughts surrounding your-at times- somewhat fragile self-esteem.

Unrequited love was a vicious bitch.

 

You'd fallen for Dean shortly after joining the Winchester brothers. He could be a royal pain in the ass, there was no denying that, but he could also be funny, sweet, amiable and fiercely loyal. The two of you fast became friends, growing closer with each day that passed. Hoping that maybe he felt the same way, you tried to show your feelings for him with subtle gestures, thinking he might reciprocate in some form or another.

Nothing. There was nothing, no sign of him sharing your feelings, just the usual camaraderie.

Quite brutally, you began analysing aspects of your personality, wondering if there was **something** there he just didn't find appealing; to the point of making you both romatically incompatible. After much introspection, your self-analysis took a particularly cruel turn- and you began scrutinizing your physical appearance, speculating if was  _ **that**_ which deterred him. It couldn't have been your personality, you and he were close friends...so you thought it must have been your looks.

Such a thought burned deeply, unearthing long-ago buried feelings of shame and poor body image.

So you loved a man who didn't love you back because of your looks? That was too painful a belief, so you tried desperately to force it to the back of your mind as you peered at yourself in the mirror. Hastily stepping into the bath, you lowered yourself so your body was hidden below the water's surface; watching absently as thin, wispy tendrils of steam rose sedately into the air.

 

Settling back in the tub, you let your eyelids droop, the hot water lulling you into a state of tranquility. The potent combination of relaxtion and heat brought with it thoughts of an erotic nature. Having a few hours (perhaps even the whole night) to yourself, you figured you'd indulge, and allowed your mind to wander in a more sensual direction...

 _ **Dean**_... you thought longingly.

There'd been numerous fantasies involding the handsome hunter, but there was one that often sent an intense shiver through your loins; of Dean pleasuring himself, sprawled across a bed for you to watch, only-however, on the condition that you not touch yourself.

Tugging and rolling your nipples lazily beneath the water, you let out a sigh, tipping your head back against the rim of the bathtub. There was that delicious tingle at your vulva; you knew your body was desperately eager to pursue this fantasy. Picturing in your mind the debauched scene, you imagined Dean lying naked on the bed; he was slowly, lightly pumping his cock with a loose fist, while his other hand gently massaged his balls. All the while, he was smiling that crooked smile at you- also naked, but sat upright on the other bed, staring at him wantonly...

" _Spread those legs nice and wide, princess, lemme see how wet you are for_ me," _he'd say. You'd obey his instruction, without a question, baring your most private place to him. He'd drag his tongue across his lip and hum appreciatively, his cock hardening in his hand, swelling at the head nicely._

_"Oh, fuck, baby, look at you...you're dripping," he'd moan, sliding his fist up and down his length, chest flushing._

"Dean," you groaned both in reality and your fantasy. In reality, however, you slid your hand down between your legs, the tip of your finger finding your clit with little difficulty.

 

_"No touchin' yourself, remember, baby? Hands to the sides till I decide what I'm gonna do to you," Dean would say, his voice low and husky, as he choked out a moan. A slick, wet sound would echo through the room, as he began spreading his pre-cum over his dick, his other hand still rubbing his balls. You'd see his stomach tense, sweat slowly begin to shine across his body..._

_"Can't decide I wanna cum over that warm, wet pussy...or slip my dick inside you and blow my load, nice and far up in you. Make you all mine, baby," he'd contemplate aloud, Adam's apple bobbing as he'd swallow and groan._

"Dean..." You crooned, stroking your throbbing clit, so those wonderful sensations grew between your legs, setting your body alight in building ecstacy. You spread your legs as far as you could, going so far as to prop one over the edge of the bath.

_"Oh, baby, look how desperate that perfect pussy is for my dick...soaking wet and swollen," he'd inform you, in a blissed-out voice, jerking himself off quicker; the low, obscene clap of his fist against his groin echoing through the room._

You mewled softly, gripping the edge of the bath with your free hand. There was euphoric daze encasing your mind, your heart fluttering in your chest, the beat of your blood growing louder in your ears. 

 

_"Ahh...fuck...yeah," Dean would gasp, eyes squeezed shut, biting his bottom lip just the way you like. You'd be left to watch him, strictly forbidden from touching yourself to answer your body's cries for stimulation. You'd whine for him, and he'd let out a single, sexy chuckle, chest rising and falling rapidly as he drew closer to orgasm. "Oh, listen to you. You like watching me jerk myself off? Think you could cum without even being touched, just from watching me?" He'd slow his hand's movement, teasing his obviously aching length- prolonging the sweet torture. Dean would then swipe his thumb over the tip of his dick, before- at an agonisingly steady pace- sliding his foreskin up and down with a thumb and forefinger._

"Dean...Dean, ah," you moaned, rubbing your clit, your whole body trembling.

_A loud, gravelly moan would tear its way out of the hunter- perhaps even a few predatory growls?  By this point, your slippery wetness would be staining the quilt, your muscles clenching in frustration and need. Staring at him imploringly, he'd merely cast a glance at you and say, in that perfectly honeyed rasp, "Not yet, baby. Don't worry, you'll be gettin' your reward soon."_

_"I want you now, Dean," you'd plead._

_"Nah, not yet. Enjoy the show, sweetheart," he'd purr out, thrusting his hips up so he was fucking his own fist. The way he'd move his pelvis so fluidly, pushing his tumescent length up into wet warmth of his hand, accompanying each thrust with a satisfied groan- he'd surely be trying to taunt you? Demonstrating exactly how he'd bury himself in your pussy, relishing each time he was wrapped in the silken hug of your walls.  
_

You were aware you were moaning unabashedly, but it didn't appear to register; overcome by this fantasy, you felt free to make as much noise as you wished. It was fortunate the Winchester brothers were out, otherwise questions would have undoubtedly been asked...

 

_You'd part your legs further, hands fisting at the bedclothes, grinding your pelvis against air as you yearned for some friction to ease the unbearable tension in your womanhood. Dean would suddenly grip the base of his dick, and smile across at you._

_"You really are ready for me, ain't ya?"_

_"Yeah..." Is all you'd be capable of saying._

_"C'mon, baby, lie back for me," he'd finally grant you mercy, standing up and swaggering over to you. With little hesitation, you'd practically throw yourself back and spread your legs as far as possible. Dean would settle on top of you, one hand beside your head bracing himself up, the other lining his cock with your soaking wet entrance. "I'm gonna cum in you, leave a part of me inside you and make that pussy mine. I wanna feel you squeeze my dick when you cum, sweetheart, nice and tight so I know I make you feel real good. Oh, and one more thing-"  
_

_"Huh?"_

_"Say my name when you cum. Want everyone to know I'm pleasing ya," he'd request, before slamming into you and thrusting relentlessly. You'd gasp inwardly, an expression of incredulity as he hit all the right spots. Given how aroused you'd be, it would take barely a few minutes to send you over the edge- maybe less? To help his momentum, Dean would stretch forward the hand bracing him up, spreading his fingers across the quilt, while his other hand seized hold of your thigh-_

"Dean!" You, in reality, cried out in sheer, unadulterated delight.

 

_His thrusts would be ruthless, no sense of restraint; your body being gradually pushed along the bed with the force of Dean's passion. You'd reach around to rake your fingers down his back, arching upward as your orgasm was close to consuming you._

_"Ah! Dean...Dean, I'm gonna-"_

_"Remember, sweetheart, say my name when you do," Dean would remind you hotly. Hands balling into fists against his sweat-soaked skin, you'd open your mouth wide in exaltation, your expression a curious mix of rapturous wonder and_   _distress. The hunter would be looking down at you, all tenderness and adoration. With a loud scream of his name, your pussy would clench around his dick, wonderful release spilling through your veins. Dean would offer his famous cocky grin, satisfied with his efforts, before succumbing to his own orgasm._

_Falling forward, so his face lay in the crook of your neck, he'd hang onto your hips with both hands and push himself into you as deep as he possibly can; his pelvis pressed firmly to your own. With a loud, guttral shout of pleasure, he'd let it be known to you that you were the one to make him feel this way, his hot seed spilling far into your core.. His ecstatic shout would be followed by a hoarse, calm groan as he came down-_

" _ **Dean!**_ " You keened aloud, your  _ **actual**_ orgasm sweeping over you in glorious waves. There was the paradisiacal high that so often followed release, and you felt your body turn limp and sink down in the tub by a fraction. Your 'high', however, was soon shattered by a horrifyingly familiar voice uttering your name, with a questioning intonation-

"[Y/N]?"

 

"DEAN!" You shrieked, panicking and splashing in the water, trying desperately to gain some semblance of composure; it was to no avail, the _**real**_ Dean had probably seen or heard enough, and no amount of covering your self and frantic apologies would take that away.

Dean averted his eyes, backing out of the bathroom- _**how had you not heard him come in?**_ "Fuck, I'm sorry, [Y/N], I shoulda knocked...I didn't think-"

"Oh, Dean, I'm sorry for...I just...please don't..." You stammered, curling into a ball out of pure shame.

"No, it's fine, really- like I said, I shoulda knocked. I'm real sorry, [Y/N]. I came back from the bar, felt bad about leaving you here on your own. Wanted to see if I could persaude you to come out. Soon as I got in the motel room, I heard you saying my name and I thought- thought you were in trouble..." Dean explained, awkwardly.

"Oh my God," you nearly burst into tears, covering your face with your hands.

"I-I'm sorry. Look, how's about I just go? Leave you alone to cool off and...keep outta your way for a bit, huh?" The hunter suggested, his posture strange as he was hunching forward slightly. You could see just how uncomfortable you'd made him, so much so, he was eager to escape already. You could hardly blame him. He'd just walked in on his friend, who he seemingly had no physical attraction to, masturbating and crying out his name during her orgasm. No wonder he wanted to flee the scene as quickly as he could.

 

"Dean, I'm so sorry," you whimpered pitifully, humiliated.

"[Y/N], seriously, it's okay," he insisted, turning to exit the bathroom and pulling at the waistband of his jeans as he did so. "I'm sorry for watch-walkin' in on you like that." He stumbled over his words, likely from shock.

"I didn't hear anything...I just...I feel so awful," you admitted, totally vulnerable. Dean hovered in the doorway, alternating between looking at you and peeling his eyes away, as though he were horribly conflicted. Again, he tugged at the waistband of his jeans, fidgeting restlessly. _**Was he really so keen to get away from you?**_

"Don't, [Y/N], there's nothin' to feel bad about. It-it's just...it's normal, I-" He faltered in his half-hearted attempt at consoling you. "Look, I'm just gonna get goin', I don't think I'm helpin' you and...and Sammy will wonder where I got to. See ya around, sweetheart." Dean left promptly, shutting the bathroom door behind him. You heard the metallic tinkle of his car keys as he scooped them up, and the motel room door being opened and, soon after, shut.

How were you going to look at him after this, never mind speak to him?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo folks, apologies for the delay in updating, and for the general lack of updates overall :3 things have been a little crazy lately, so I haven't had much time to write chapters.
> 
> So, as promised here is the final chapter of this saucy little fic :D
> 
> Hope it doesn't disappoint :)

After clambering out of the bath and towelling yourself dry, still hot all over from the embarrassment of being caught 'in the moment', you slipped on your PJs; a baggy t-shirt and simple, black cotton panties. Climbing into your bed, you wrapped the quilt around you, replaying the scene in your head, over and over. From hearing Dean's questioning voice to the uneasy expression on his face. You felt like slapping yourself, insides crawling with shame.

To try and drown out the incident, you grabbed the TV remote and switched on the television set, flipping through the channels until you settled on some mindless sitcom. No matter how hard you tried to focus on the show, your mind was resolutely determined to torture you with your humiliation. Mashing your thumb against the volume control settings on the remote, you increased the volume, hoping the laugh track and pitiful attempts at comedic 'gold' would deflect your unwavering focus on the occurence.

It didn't.

You simply found yourself staring blankly at the actors giving Golden Raspberry-worthy performances, barely listening to whatever 'hilarious situation' was unfolding in the episode; picturing Dean's face as he stood before you. You clutched at the quilt, a surge of emotion rushing through you as fear, of the damage those few minutes might have had on your friendship, gripped at your heart. Lifting the quilt to your neck, you hugged it close, as a few tears dribbled down your burning cheeks. _**Would he ever talk to you again? Would he even want to look at you? Would he try and persaude Sam that it was best if you and them 'parted ways'?**_

 _ **Stupid, stupid, stupid...should have listened out...got too carried away,**_ you chided yourself, fingers tightening their grip upon the duvet, speculating the numerous ways you could have avoided such painful humiliation and potentially friendship-ruining awkwardness.

 

An hour and a half later, you made out the low, purring rumble of the Impala's engine, nearing in proximity to the motel room. As it went quiet as the ignition was switched off, you felt your stomach twist into a dozen knots. The car doors were opened and then shut promptly, Sam and Dean's voices' a deep, muffled buzzing. Turning the TV volume down, you then quickly pulled the bedclothes up to retain your modesty, before fixing your eyes on the screen once more. There was a scrabbling of the room key in the lock, and the door was opened up; revealing, first, the tall, broad frame of Sam.

"Hey, [Y/N], how's it going?" He inquired affectionately. Dean had evidently said nothing to his brother of what he'd witnessed.

"Um, good, thanks, Sam. You? You're back sooner than I expected?"

"Yeah, well, it got boring quick. Plus, Dean seems a little out of it-" Sam then cupped a hand around his mouth, adding in a stage whisper, "- _ **he didn't even try picking up any women. I think he's ill or something.**_ "

"I can hear you, douchebag," Dean's husky voice grumbled from behind his giant of a brother.

"That was kinda the point," Sam snorted like a delinquent schoolboy. Dean pushed past, but patted Sam on the arm all the same, and dropped his keys on the table. He glanced over at you, for a few mere seconds, before hurriedly looking off to the side.

"Y'okay?" Dean asked you, somewhat stiffly, shrugging off his leather jacket and setting it aside.

"Yeah, thank you," you replied demurely, looking down and picking at your fingernails anxiously. Sam shut the room door, pulled his jacket off and made a beeline for the bathroom; leaving both you and Dean alone temporarily. You held the quilt firmly, eyes glued to the TV screen, feigning interest in the show playing. Deliberately, you ignored the scrape of the dining chair and Dean settling himself down. You couldn't face looking at him; terrified of seeing either disgust or irritation.

 

Minutes passed by slowly, as you internally pleaded for Sam's presence just to break the tension. Instead he remained in the bathroom, brushing his teeth judging by the sound of scrubbing bristles and running tap water. Overwhelmed by a sudden daring curiosity, you slowly turned your head to the side and lifted your gaze tenatively to look over at Dean. The hunter was sat at the dining table; one arm draped over the back of his chair, the other stretched out across the Formica-topped table. He appeared to be deep in thought, his fixed stare on the floor and his brows were knitted together in a pensive frown.

You couldn't help but notice how desirable he looked; that relaxed yet confident pose, the perfect fit of his black t-shirt, the cut of his jaw and the soft, poutiness of his mouth. Even amidst the shame, there was an intense swelling of love for him. In mere seconds, almost as if he saw your thoughts as clearly as words in a book, Dean's green eyes shifted their gaze to you. Your own eyes slid to the wall, and you turned your head swiftly; feeling embarrassment yet again.

Eventually, Sam emerged from the bathroom, pulling his t-shirt up and over his head. "Bathroom's all yours, whoever wants it," he said, stuffing the used t-shirt into his duffel bag. Dean rose from the table and strode across to the empty bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Sam cast a weary eye at the door separating him and his older brother. "Dunno what's up him. He's been acting kinda off since he came back to the bar. You two didn't have an argument or anything, did you?" Sam inquired.

"Nope. He said he'd come back to convince me to join you guys, but I was already pretty chilled out here. Didn't feel like heading out anywhere," you lied smoothly.

"Huh," Sam's eyebrows quirked up. "Wonder what's bothering him?" He contemplated aloud, changing into comfortable pyjama sweatpants.

 _ **Maybe it was walking in on his friend touching herself and moaning his name?**_ You couldn't press the thought back in your head. The heat rose in your cheeks, and to avoid any questions from Sam, you looked away.

"Hope he gets over it soon," Sam sighed, climbing into his own bed and laying on his side.

"I hope so too," you answered distantly.

 

When Dean came out of the bathroom, he wordlessly began changing into his sleepwear. Sam twisted around to look back at his brother, propping himself up on an elbow.

"Everything okay with you, Dean?"

"Yeah. Why'd you ask?"

"You just seem different," Sam said, clearly concerned.

"Tired, I guess. Now pipe down, Sammy, you need your beauty sleep," Dean joked half-heartedly.

"If something's bothering you, you can talk-"

"Nothing's bothering me, Sammy. Go to sleep. We're both tired- neither of us are in the mood to have a chick flick heart-to-heart," Dean replied, his manner more terse. 'Neither of us' really meant **him**. **He** wasn't in any mood to discuss why he was behaving oddly. Not wanting to strike up a quarrel, Sam withdrew from the conversation and simply bade you and Dean a good night, before resting on his side again. Quietly, you slid from your bed and padded across to the bathroom, hoping Dean would either be settled down or asleep by the time you were finished. Even without looking, you knew Dean's eyes were drilling into your back as you pattered away.

As it happened, when you'd finished in the bathroom, not only was the TV switched off but Dean appeared to be asleep on the couch. Or at least, approaching sleep. Breathing out in relief, you silently climbed into bed and snapped off the bedside table's tiny lamp.

 

For you, however, sleep did not come quite as easily. Too occupied with thoughts of earlier that evening and ways to avoid being alone Dean, his expression...

You turned onto your side, away from the older Winchester, instead looking at Sam's sleeping form. Steady breathing filled the otherwise silent, dark room, the streetlights outside casting a faint tangerine glow through the motel room's cheap, geometric-patterned curtains. For a few moments, you watched Sam's bare shoulder rise and fall with his deep breaths, hoping it would bring slumber. Closing your eyes, unfortunately, did not feel comfortable, your previously soft pillow now firm and sinking beneath your head. With a sigh, you lifted yourself up and tried plumping up your pillow; only for it to feel as pleasant as resting your head against rock.

Rolling onto your back, you pressed the heels of your hands against your forehead, before sliding your palms over your eyes; as though trying to block out the motel room. Several minutes in that position, and you were still wide awake.

Frustrated, you flipped over onto your side again, fiercely determined to sleep and blot out the constant replay of what had happened...

Nothing. Your body just didn't want to co-operate. You stared blankly ahead, fiddling with the loose corner of the pillow case.

The silence of the motel room was then broken by the sound of feet padding over the carpeted floor. Given that Sam hadn't moved, you knew it to be Dean; so you didn't even consider glancing back, remaining completely still beneath your duvet. You expected to see his shape in the darkness, as he shuffled towards the bathroom. Instead there was nothing, and silence filled the motel room once more. _**Was he okay? Was he...sleep-standing?**_ It was a fairly preposterous notion, but it was the only one that seemed rational...'rational' being perhaps a less than suitable term for your reasoning at that time.

That's when you felt your quilt being pulled back, the cool air biting at your bare legs, then felt the mattress sag slightly as a warm body pressed itself to your back. _**No fucking way,**_ was your first thought, _**am I actually asleep? Is this a really vivid dream?**_

Feeling the coarse skin of Dean's fingers on your arm, you knew you were awake and that this was reality.

 

"Can't sleep?" He asked, his tone gentle.

"Um...no," you whispered. You had no idea what to make of this situation; you were expecting avoidance, indifference, stilted conversation. Instead, Dean was nestled up close to you in your bed, brushing his fingers over your arm soothingly.

"Me either," he spoke quietly in your ear, "Can't stop thinkin' about earlier-"

"Dean, I'm-I'm so sorry," the distress laced your words, and you began rolling over to face him, eyes watering as the shame welled within you. "I just...I can't believe you...I'm so sorry you saw that and-"

"Why?" Dean questioned you, his expression utterly perplexed.

"Wh....because we're friends, and-and you saw me...doing _**that**_   and saying your name- it's just- I feel so embarrassed. I feel angry at myself," you let the words rush out, grateful to be able to have this opportunity, "I keep thinking how I could have avoided you seeing all that and...now our friendship is just gonna be- it's gonna be screwed up. It's gonna be awkward."

"How's that?"

"Dean...you...you caught me-" you lowered your voice until it was barely audible, practically mouthing the word, "- _ **masturbating**_. Thinking about you. How's it not awkward? I mean, you don't have those kinda feelings for me, so it's like-I dunno, just _**weird**_ and-"

"Hey, [Y/N], c'mere," Dean pulled you towards him for a comforting hug. No encouragement needed, you immediately clung to him in the embrace. He stretched his neck forward- his cheek on yours, his chin in the crook of your neck-and you heard him whisper the words, "I enjoyed it."

 

There was a brief moment in which his words had to sink in. When they finally did, you slowly pulled back, staring at him incredulously. "You....wait, what?"

"I enjoyed it. Watchin' you," his tone was deliciously low and husky- it was the the voice he used to seduce, and it was indeed working. "Seein' you like that-"

"Dean..."

"I heard moaning when I got in the motel room. Figured out pretty quickly what you were doing. When I heard you sayin' my name, I **had** to see for myself and-" Dean's hands began gently roaming downwards, massaging your waist, "-damn, what I saw was fucking incredible."

"Dean, are you-are you just saying this...please don't do this to me if you don't feel the same way. I can't handle loving somebody who doesn't love me back," you said, vulnerability surfacing. Dean's green eyes stared deeply into yours, and he lifted a hand to caress your cheek.

"Now what makes you think I don't love you?"

"You never showed it," you told him in a small, plaintive voice. Dean tenderly pushed you onto your back, and carefully clambered on top of you, running his fingers through your hair.

"You didn't notice, sweetheart," he replied, disappointment evident in the way he spoke.

 

"I dunno how to put into words what I think or feel when you're around. I'm not good with that stuff, but...when I first realised how I felt-I tried blocking it out, tried to get it all outta my head...'cause I know I'd end up fucking up with you. I couldn't go through that, not 'cause I'd be upset, but 'cause I'd have to live with knowing how badly I messed up with you. That I'd brought some misery or whatever kind of shit I bring into your life." He touched his forehead to yours, which prompted you to start brushing your fingers through his hair lovingly.

"Dean, you could never make me miserable," you assured him.

"You say that now but...six months down the line? A year? Five years? Life as a hunter ain't certain, you could die tomorrow or in ten years, but I can accept that. I know anything could happen so in a really fuckin' obscure way it's kinda predictable now. Me, though? I don't know where to begin. I could start out being an awesome boyfriend to you, but then I could just...ruin it all by being an asshole," Dean admitted. " Well. Being more of an asshole, at least. I don't deserve you, [Y/N]."

"Don't say that," you frowned at him, cradling his face in your hands, "Don't you dare say that."

"[Y/N], you're too fucking golden for this life. For guys like me," Dean started closing the space between your mouths, his lips barely brushing against your own.

"I don't think there _**are**_ any guys like you, Dean Winchester," you quipped, before pulling the hunter down for a passionate kiss. As soon as you broke apart, you held his jaw gently, staring up into those searching green eyes. "I love you. I never want to hear you say you're not good enough. I hate hearing you put yourself down, how you punish yourself for every mistake. There's people out in the world, who aren't half as good a human being as you are, and they don't hurt themselves the way you do everyday. You're on a whole other level, Dean, and I want you to know....just how amazing you are." Your voice was hushed, but carried the same impact as crying the words from a rooftop.

"I love you, [Y/N]," Dean breathed out, vulnerability written over what you could see of his face in the mostly-dark motel room. He leaned down and kissed you with every passionate fiber of his being, his hands clutching ardently at your hair.

 

"Dean..." You moaned quietly, so as not to disrupt Sam's slumber. Dean's right hand skimmed down your waist, over your hip; his fingers creeping under the hem of your t-shirt.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," he whispered, barely audible.

"Y'know, I thought I wasn't attractive enough for you before today," you confessed, laden with irony, given the heartfelt speech you'd given him not a minute earlier.

"That why you thought I wouldn't love you back?"

"Kinda, yeah," you replied bashfully.

"[Y/N]..." Dean's voice came out in a doleful sigh, before his lips were on your mouth again.

"Guess we both have issues to work through, huh?" You chuckled quietly as the kiss broke apart.

"I can think of a way we could work through 'em together," Dean suggested in a low growl, his hormones beginning to navigate the situation, "I wanna show you just how perfect you are, princess." He gently pressed his hips to yours, a distinctive hardness trapped behind the fabric of his boxer briefs. On instinct, you parted your legs, granting him more access.

 

"That's one hell of a persausive argument, Dean," you said, a little breathier than before. "Tell me...tell me exactly what you thought and felt...when you caught me touching myself." You requested, quavering from the sensation of Dean slowly inching your panties down your thighs.

"Mmm, I loved it. As soon as I walked in the room, I heard you from the bathroom- those sweet, sexy moans, like you were _**really**_ gettin' into it. I just waited for a few minutes, listenin' to you, wondering what exactly you were doin' to yourself," the hunter said with relish, "Thinkin' how wet you musta been if you were moaning that much."

"Uh huh?" You merely replied, encouraging him to continue.

"My dick was gettin' so hard just hearing you, princess. Then I started to wonder...who were you thinkin' about?" Dean, by this point, had successfully managed to remove your panties and dropped them carelessly on the floor, and his hands were now stroking and squeezing the softness of your thighs. Fervidly, you dragged your pyjama t-shirt up and over your head, hurling it to the side and exposing your bare breasts; your nipples peaked and in dire need of Dean's velvety lips to lavish them with attention.

The hunter groaned quietly above you, those hands roaming from your thighs to your naked chest, coarse fingers gentle across the tender flesh.

"Who'd-who'd you think it was? That I was imagining?" You panted, breath hitching when Dean began alternating between brushing his thumbs over your nipples and caressing your body.

"For a second, I thought it mighta been one of those guys you picked up for a one night stand. I didn't like that," he remarked, his grip on your waist tightening possessively. "Didn't like thinkin' they meant something to you." He mouthed at your throat, sucking and peppering kisses over the delicate skin. "Hated you goin' off with those assholes, [Y/N]."

"They weren't anything special, baby," you cooed, tugging at his soft, tawny hair.

"Not good enough for you," he mumbled against your skin.

"They couldn't come close to you, didn't make me feel the way you do," you sighed, as Dean dragged his lips along your jaw.

 

"Wanna make you feel good..." The hunter whispered, half to himself, caressing your naked form. "When I heard you say my name, it was awesome. Couldn't help it, princess, I had to see for myself. So I opened the door, real quiet so you wouldn't hear me over your perfect little moans-"

"Were you peeping on me, Dean Winchester?" You purred, wriggling your hips beneath him.

"Yeah, I guess I was," Dean replied, smiling wickedly, without a trace of shame. "I just stood in the doorway for a while, watching...you were working yourself under the water. Wished I coulda seen exactly how you were touchin' your pussy. I could see you playin' with your tits, so that was somethin' at least."

"Dean," you crooned, reaching down to rub his hard-on through his boxers. He grunted, grinding gently against your palm.

" _ **Fuck**_ ," he gasped.

"Thought about you the whole time I touched myself, Dean. Pictured you lying on my bed, stroking your dick while I watched you. I wasn't allowed to touch myself, and I had to sit with my legs open for you so you could see how wet you got me-"

"[Y/N], fuck," Dean moaned, gripping your thigh and holding on to it desperately like a life-line.

"Got so wet imagining you pumping your cock in your fist, teasing me and making me beg for you," your hands travelled along the length of his waist, to the waistband of his boxers, "Then just before you came, you decided to give me what I needed. Finally filled up my aching pussy." You pushed his boxers down, you fingers skimming over his firm buttocks. Freeing his erection from his underwear, you felt the delicious heat and the slick tip of his dick brush over your womanhood.

"Then what?" Dean asked eagerly, hanging onto your every word.

"You fucked me hard, the way I need to be fucked...told me to scream your name so everyone knew how good you made me feel," you gazed up at the hunter with eyes that implored him to take you then and there. "Dean, please. Please fuck me." You mewled quietly, writhing underneath him.

 

The effect your words and beseeching pleas had on him was incredible; the hunter immediately regained control of the situation, seizing hold of your hips and dragging you further down the bed. In the newly adopted position, you had to pull your knees back slightly in order to spare your thighs the ache of spreading wide enough. Your face was now completely level with Dean's, who was bracing himself above you, staring at you with an expression that defined ravenous lust. The corner of his mouth pulled back in a sexy, confident smirk. Without realising it, you were looking up at him incredulously, lips parted in anticipation.

"You look surprised, baby girl. Didn't expect me to get a little rough, huh? You didn't think I'd take charge again? Nuh uh, baby, I'm makin' you _**all mine**_. I'm fuckin' you hard and deep, and this time- you're not allowed to scream, or you'll wake poor Sammy up with those dirty moans of yours," Dean chuckled low in his throat, leaning down to press his lips to yours. "Now, let's see how wet you are." He purred raspily, a hand slipping down between your bodies, to your most intimate place.

With his fore and middle finger, he traced a steady, light line from your dripping entrance up the delicate crevice that lay between your labia. He sucked on his lower lip and hummed in satisfaction.

"Perfect, baby. So wet for me," he praised you lasciviously, "So soft and warm." Dean began rubbing each lip in a circular motion with his thumb and forefinger. A pleasant tingle made its way from your vulva to your core, a warmth pooling deep within you. You wriggled your hips, silently asking for more of Dean's delectable ministrations.

"Like that, don't ya?" He smirked triumphantly.

"Yeah," you breathed out, lids drooping so the hunter was faced with a heavy blast of 'fuck-me' eyes. Upon seeing this, he bit down on his lower lip, and began palming your womanhood gently; the heel of his hand stimulating your clit. Breath hitching, your mouth fell open, allowing the tiniest gasps to escape. "Dean, fuck me." You whimpered, rolling your hips upward to get more friction from his hand.

"Think you're ready for me, baby?"

" _ **Yes**_! Please, Dean, _**want you,**_ " You hissed out, entreating the hunter. The hand Dean had used to palm you between the legs was removed to, from what you could see, line up his solid length with your entrance. As if bracing yourself for the sweet intrusion and sensation of being filled, you wrapped your legs around your lover's waist and held your arms above your head, hands clutching at the pillow you'd been dragged away from. Dean smiled down at you tenderly, a fleeting glimpse of the man who was in deeply love with you breaking through the predatory veneer of the aroused, dominant hunter about to fuck you into the mattress. He lowered his face to kiss you; the tiny embrace chaste and sweet. You reached up to stroke your fingertips over his stubbly cheek.

"I love you," you whispered, suddenly struck by a surge of affection.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he responded, his voice hushed.

When the head of dick slid inside of you, the calm romance of the moment became a raging inferno of sexual _**hunger**_.

 

The wonderful stretch of his length within you had you shuddering beneath him. Your hands fisted at the pillow above you, your thighs spreading on instinct to offer him total access to every inch of your passage. When he'd eased himself in to the hilt, he looked down at your face, grinning cockily.

"Like my dick, huh? Like me inside your pussy?"

" _ **Dean**_ ," you groaned.

"Mmm mm, fuck, you feel so good wrapped round me, [Y/N]. Could stay in you forever. All mine, sweetheart, want you to be all mine," Dean growled possessively.

" 'M already yours, Dean," you slurred, drunk on the sensations in your body. "Wanna feel you slide inside me again, baby." 

Dean gladly obliged, setting a fierce pace as he thrust aggressively into you over and over; so much so, the clap of his flesh against yours was barely muffled by the quilt draped over Dean's lower back. His hands found yours, twisting them away from the pillow so he could lace his fingers between yours. This was more than just sex, this was the both of you connecting; consumating the love you'd hidden from one another. The feelings within your body transcended pleasure; there was passion, delight, security, Dean's body moving against yours was comfort and protection. The way he looked at you, like he'd finally borne witness to a miracle, made you never want to be apart from him.

But damned if you weren't enjoying him pumping in and out of you; something he'd evidently wanted to do for some time considering his fervency, the unshakeable determination set into his features and the subtle glimmer of sweat on his enchanting face. You were rewarding his efforts with tiny whimpers and hushed moans, your pussy fluttering at odd intervals as your orgasm grew closer. To taunt Dean, you would on occasion squeeze your muscles down below to provoke a reaction from him. The response each time was a delicious grunt and a stuttering of his thrusting hips.

"You keep doin' that I'm gonna come too soon," he groaned, "Wanna...wanna make you come first, [Y/N]."

"With you inside me, Dean, I don't think I'll be lasting much longer," you panted.

Dean appeared to take that as a cue to slam into you harder and deeper than before, the head of his dick rubbing against your g-spot perfectly. Your breasts swelled against him as you sucked in air at the magnificent stimulation, your back arching upward while the rest of your body seemed to stiffen up. Tipping your head back, your mouth opened, allowing quiet, keening moans to tear their way out of you. The moment you felt yourself hitting the fine line between plateau and blissful oblivion, you looked back at Dean and untangled your fingers from his so you could cup his face. Sensing your approaching release, Dean lowered his body, resting his weight on his forearms and elbows. Wanting to cherish the moment, he'd closed the space between you and met your lips in a flurry of kisses.

"Dean," you whined as his lips broke apart from yours, "Dean, I'm gonna..."

"I know, baby, come for me. I wanna feel you come," he encouraged. Slipping your hands over his shoulders so your nails dug into his beautiful, toned back, your body locked up as your core sang with a heavenly orgasm. Every flutter of your walls unwravelled the coil of glorious tension Dean had built inside you. In a significant effort not to cry out in ecstatic delight, you merely whimpered and moaned delicately in Dean's ear.

It took barely a few seconds for the hunter to join in you the bliss of climax, his chest heaving as he pushed his face into the crook of your neck, releasing a muffled groan into your shoulder.

 

The post-coital langour comprised of peppered kisses and lazy smiles, as you both gazed at one another adoringly. While you stroked Dean's back, tracing indecipherable shapes and patterns over his smooth skin, he slowly brushed his fingers through your hair.

"Y'know," you began, "I'm really glad you walked in on me, now."

"I'm glad I walked in on you, too," Dean quipped wryly, affording a stifled giggle from you.

"I bet you are," you snorted, making Dean grin in that familiar rogueish fashion of his.

"How you holdin' up, sweetheart?" He asked tenderly.

"Never been better, and I'm not just saying that," you kissed him once more.

"Good," he said, eyes crinkling at the outer corners.

"Although, not to be a party pooper, I could do with sleeping now. I'm kinda feeling a lot more relaxed than I was a while ago," you admitted, rubbing your bleary eyes.

"Sure thing, princess," Dean slowly rolled off of you. When it seemed like he was making to leave your bed, you clung onto his arm.

"Oh, don't go, Dean. Stay with me," you said, your words tinged with an unmistakable vulnerability. Dean, however, smiling bemusedly, started nestling up to you, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you nearer to him.

"I wasn't plannin' on goin' on anywhere, [Y/N]," he reassured you, planting a kiss on your forehead. Wriggling forward, a beaming smile spread across your face, you lay your head on his warm, bare chest. "You've got me caught up, princess, I can't imagine not bein' with you, now."

"Good, 'cause you're stuck with me," you rallied playfully. There was a moment of quiet in the motel room, the only sound being the hiss of skin against skin as Dean ran a hand up and down your back. He then clasped his hand around your own, which was resting on his stomach. His final words, before the both of you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, were etched into your memory-

"Wouldn't want it any other way, sweetheart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this fic, my groovy beans! :D
> 
> I know there's not as much emphasis on the actual sex, but I've always been more of a sap for a hot build up rather than the sexy time itself :3 hehe...Hope none of you mind too much? :)


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